Til Death Do Us Part, Unfortunately
by HaloAngel
Summary: SEQUEL TO PEACE, LOVE AND TIME TRAVEL! Ethan and Rochelle have got a perfectly planned wedding in Athens, but you know what they say about even the best laid plans...CHAPTER 6 UP!
1. Zebra Suits and Wedding Cakes

**I'm baaaaaaack! The Sequel to Peace, Love and Time Travel. If you haven't read PLTT, I would REALLY recommend it, because you'll be confused. It's good, I promise! **

**THANK YOU to all of the wonderful reviews i got for that, by the way, and hopefully more will come with this one. It started off as just a sweet little one-shot, but then, of course, i got an _idea_ that turned it into a five-parter at least, possibly more.**

**_'Til Death Do Us Part, Unfortunately _starts about six months after PLTT left off, on the weekend of Ethan and Rochelle's wedding. Isabel's got this wedding down perfect, but you know what they say about even the best laid plans...**

**Disclaimer: I own only Gabe and a few future characters. The rest belongs to Marianne Curley.**

"It feels like the next stage of the X-Men movies. It doesn't feel like a sequel. It feels like a new episode." 

**-James Marsden

* * *

****Isabel**

"So, I need to know…what color is the cake?" Dillon plops down on the couch to my right. The girls are here at Rochelle's house discussing the final wedding plans. Dillon is here because…

Well, he's Dillon.

"The cake! We forgot the cake! Oh I knew something would go wrong-" Rochelle sinks her face in her hands in despair and wails. Her wedding is on Saturday-three days from now- so it's understandable that she's freaking out right now.

Good thing she's got such a good wedding planner. (Me! Also the Maid of Honor. Neriah said she'd let me do it, because I was bossier. So now Rochelle actually has two Maids of Honor.)

"Rochelle. RELAX. We did _not_ forget the cake; I ordered it from Entenmann's weeks ago. Remember, you picked out the topper?"

"Oh," she sighs. "Right."

I exchange a smile with Neriah. It's funny to see the usually calm, collected Rochelle freak out over a pastry product. Considering the number of monsters and horrors we've faced before, I mean. It's probably a good thing Arkarian and I can't get married. "Hey, Dillon…why do you need to know?" I asked curiously.

"Oh, because Matt and I are renting tuxes today, and I need to know what color," he explains, as if this is the most obvious thing in the world.

He rolls his eyes at our blank stares. Rochelle even raises her head from her hands to stare at him. "Well," he starts. "If there's a white cake, you sure as hell don't want a black tux because if you accidentally get some on you, it'll show up, whereas with a white tux it's less noticeable in pictures. However, if it's a chocolate cake, the white cake is _not_ a good option."

There is a silence while this is considered.

"I think I might have been here too long, but Dillon's ideas are actually starting to make sense." Neriah says with some astonishment in her voice.

"Except the cake is a marble one," I say reluctantly. Dillon looks confused.

"Um, Izzy? Won't that kind of…break people's teeth?"

I sigh and roll my eyes. "Not the _hard_ kind of marble, idiot. It's a word for chocolate and vanilla combined. It was a compromise, since Ethan is a chocolate junkie and Rochelle's favorite is vanilla. And don't call me Izzy."

"Oh." I can see the wheels in Dillon's head turning. So, unfortunately, can Rochelle.

"Dillon." She says in a dangerous voice. "I swear, if you wear a zebra-skinned tux to my wedding, it will be the last thing you _ever_ do."

"Relax, relax…don't get your panties in a bunch," he says sullenly, crossing his arms. A shriek is heard from the other room, announcing the waking of Gabe from his nap.

"It must be a flying insect." Rochelle mutters, rising lithely from the chair and making her way into the bedroom. Since Neriah's moved out, Ethan moved into Rochelle's room, giving Gabe a room of his own.

He has a real fear of those. Flying insects, I mean. If it crawls, he can handle it with no problem (believe it or not, I've seen him try to catch 4 inch spiders with his hands), but if a fly buzzes in his ear, boy does he freak. Usually he claps his hands over his ears, ducks his head, and hollers.

"This is the kid that's going to lead the battle against evil someday." Dillon cracks. I hit him, even if he's got a small point.

Gabe is part of the Chosen, sort of the next generation to fight the order of Chaos. Like a sequel to the Named.

Even though sequels are _never_ as good as the originals. But whatever.

Part of the reason Gave is special is because he wasn't born here. He was born in France. Eighteenth-century France, to be exact.

Ethan, Neriah and I accidentally brought him back from a mission where we were saving Napoleon Bonaparte's great-grandfather. Only as it turns out, Lucien Bonaparte was fine, it was just where Marduke was keeping his Wrenbeasts. And bringing Gabe back was just a part of the New Prophecy.

But that's a whole other story.

"Here he is…" Rochelle comes out holding Gabe, even though he's almost four. "Usually he's not so tired, but he and Ethan had a Bob-the-Builder marathon last night, so…"

And even though she rolls her eyes as she says this and tries to look annoyed, I know the black-haired girl well enough to know that she thought it was the cutest thing in the world. And it was. Ethan's a great dad already, and a sweet fiancé to Rochelle. And however tough she may try to act, Rochelle adores kids, and is crazy-in-love with my best friend.

The whole thing is just so perfect it makes me want to either sigh or throw up.

As if on cue, Ethan opens the front door. His dark hair is tousled from the autumn wind, and his blue eyes light up when he sees Rochelle standing there. "Hey," he breathes. "Miss me?"

He and Rochelle both take a few classes at the local university. Technically, they're freshmen. Out of all of us, they're the only ones who can have a "normal" life, with jobs and taxes. At 18, I've stopped physically growing. I don't have the blue hair yet, but Arkarian assures me it'll get there.

"Always," Rochelle says with a grin.

"Oh, _please_. It's been like an hour." Dillon mutters.

"Hush." I say with a glare. "It's cute."

"Cute, my ass."

"Your ass is not cute."

Dillon is saved from having to think of a comeback because Rochelle hands him Gabe. Dillon is actually surprisingly good with kids (well, maybe not so surprising-they do have the same mental capacity.) Ethan kisses Rochelle now that her hands are free.

"Hi, Ethan, nice to see you too." I say in a gently teasing way.

"Oh, hey Isabel," he says unashamedly. "Hey Neriah. And Dillon." He pretends to look around. "And let me see…who did I forget?"

"Me!" Gabe giggles in delight.

Ethan pretends not to hear him. "I _know_ there was someone…where could he be?"

"Here!" Gabe yells and jumps up and down "Gabe is here, Daddy!"

_There_ you are!" Ethan smacks his own head in astonishment, making Gabe squeal in amusement. Then he picks the little boy up and swings him. "How's my boy today?"

After Gabe is done describing a particularly violent game of toy soldiers and goes off to watch Barney, Ethan sits down. "Hey, guys, what's the good word?"

"There is none. The Coliseum was booked for the weekend, so the wedding is off." Dillon says with a perfectly straight face. The Coliseum is what the immortals built to replace the Citadel. It's much the same thing, we just felt funny calling it the same thing as Lorien's home. Ethan and Rochelle decided to have their wedding there so that the Tribunal and Dartemus and Arkarian can come. King Richard will perform the ceremony, because we could never get a real priest up there. Plus, being King of Veridian gives him matrimonial powers anyway. So Dillon's comment was just a way to rile Ethan.

And it _is_ funny to see his eyes go really wide and hear his gasp.

"He's joking." Rochelle hurries to assure him. "But the response is gratifying."

"How's your mom?" Neriah asks. Since the wedding is at the Coliseum, and the Tribunal gave us special permission to bring Laura, she had to be told about the Guard. Not all of it, such as the Marduke part, and how _he_ was responsible for the death of her daughter Sera 15 years ago, not a rare brain aneurysm. Or the part about her husband, Shawn, chopping off half of his face and almost dying, and Rochelle almost dying. Twice.

Just the bare, watered-down essentials.

"She's good," Ethan says with a smile, and I know how happy he is to be able to say it. It was not too long ago that Laura was suicidal, driven to grief-induced insanity because Sera was trying to contact her from the other realm. Now that she's better, I think Ethan worried that this new information would send her back into a downward spiral. But so far, so good.

_My_ mom hasn't been told yet, and probably won't be for a long time. I don't think she could handle knowing that the three people closest to her-Matt, me, and Jimmy- are all in mortal peril every day. Or that Matt's father is actually the most powerful immortal in the universe. And that he sent Jimmy as her Protector.

Therefore, she just thinks that I have extensive extra-curricular activities. Which I do. She just could never imagine how extensive. Thankfully, Jimmy and the Tribunal have arranged for her to have a mandatory business trip to Sydney this weekend.

They never do that for me when I have a math test, even though I ask them every time.

Neriah and I leave, dragging Dillon, agreeing to meet in Athens tomorrow. We're all going there for the weekend. The bachelor/bachlorette parties are tomorrow night, with the rehearsal dinner Friday, and then finally the big day Saturday.

"Something's bound to go wrong…" Neriah says.

"Oh, stop it." I reply. "It'll all work out smoothly."

"Please. Isabel." Dillon interrupts, rolling his eyes. "This is Ethan and Rochelle we're talking about here. When has anything _ever_ worked out smoothly?"

* * *

**Yay for first, and possibly the last chapter if i don't get some feedback telling me to continue. I do have the first few chapters typed and the rest written, so the faster you review, the faster they come!**

**Also- I haven't read Marianne Curley's books in awhile, so I might have lost her writing style. If that's a problem, sorry. I think it's not like what she would write anyway. Just something for us nerds who believe in happy endings :)**

**Until next time,**

**HaLo AnGeL**


	2. Can't Stop This Thing We've Started

**THANK YOU to those who reviewed...Diego, Utopia, kenshinroks2111, Reasonable, LovelyLadyJem, FMA4EVER, IdiotAmerica56, Fleur-de-leise, RoseZephyr, and ladyclaire 4161...you have no idea how much it helps! I decided to give you guys a little weekend treat...enjoy!**

**RoseZephyr pointed out that it's SHAUN, not SHAWN...i feel so stupid. I knew that. Honestly I did. Hopefully I've fixed it...**

** "No love, no friendship can cross the path of our destiny without leaving some mark on it forever." **

-Francois Muriac

* * *

**Arkarian**

Athens is gorgeous and festive. It's warm, with a breeze that carries the scent of freshly baked bread. The marketplace is bustling, packed with people who are laughing or ageing, having fun, or in a hurry to get home.

"The whole thing is so perfect, it just makes you want to hurl, doesn't it?" the ever-eloquent Rochelle puts in.

Isabel sighs happily and snakes an arm around my waist. "It is sort of wonderful isn't it?"

I press my lips against her hair. "You have no idea."

"Where's Dillon?" Ethan asks, looking around.

"Oh he's probably off somewhere-" Rochelle starts, but she's interrupted but a rather loud clatter behind us and yelling is a familiar voice. "Causing trouble," she finishes, looking like she wishes she hadn't started. We all turn slowly around and there's Dillon, running as fast as he can towards us, with two big dogs chasing him. Their owner is obviously the angry vendor of the pile of brass pans and pots that Dillon has managed to knock over.

Suddenly, the two hounds, which are admittedly pretty large, stop and seem to perk up their ears in another direction. Neriah's come to greet us. Dillon sprints and hides behind the immortal as the dogs trot up to sniff her curiously.

"Glad to see you can defend yourself, Dill." Ethan claps his old friend on the shoulder. "Demons and Wrenbeasts are no problem but these dogs were _scary_…"

"Shut up, Ethan." Dillon says, now bright red. "They should put up a sign or something, like a warning: 'Disturb the brass, we bite your-'"

"Welcome to Athens," Neriah says quickly. "Want to see your rooms?"

Matt appears next to her, arm around his girlfriend's shoulders. It's kind of startling to see him just pop up like that, but Neriah seems used to it. Matt's a different person now. Here he wears his power like a well-fitting coat, and seems so far from the discouraged, self-berating boy that I first knew.

He smiles, though, and his dark eyes twinkle the same way. "My Neriah's worked so hard on these rooms- I swear it was royalty coming instead of just you lot."

Neriah blushes and whacks him. "This is SPECIAL! Ethan and Rochelle don't get married every DAY-"

"Ouch! Have you been taking lessons from Isabel?" Matt squeezes her good-naturedly. Isabel makes a scoffing noise, but I kiss her head again to let her know that I think her hitting is cute. Except when directed at me. Matt knows Rochelle and Ethan's wedding better than anyone-probably even Isabel- because Ethan asked him to be best man.

Ethan and Rochelle's room is first. Neriah was going to be old-fashioned and make them both have separate rooms, but Ethan convinced her that having one bedroom would really just be easier.

The room has one big bed, which is circle shaped with fluffy pillows. The carpet is lavender, and so soft to walk on that you feel like you're sinking. The walls are light blue, with incredibly realistic clouds painted on them. Upon closer inspection, I see that the clouds are actually _moving_, as if the bedroom actually is in the sky. There is a collective ooooh-ahhhh from the girls, and even Matt looks impressed. There's a dresser in the corner, with a large television and special hooks marked "Bride" and "Groom". On the dresser is a framed picture of Ethan and Rochelle together, then a smaller one of Gabe. It's a cute picture, one obviously taken when they weren't looking. They're sitting by the creek next to my mountain, Rochelle leaning between his legs, his arms around her. She's obviously laughing at something that he's just said, and he's grinning slightly foolishly at her.

Rochelle looks dangerously close to tears and throws her arms around Neriah, who is her Maid of Honor. I think Isabel said there were two (don't ask me why…guys don't find this a very big deal). Gabe wanders over to look at his picture, wrinkling his little nose and making Isabel laugh hard.

The place a few doors down is Shaun and Laura's room. It looks rather like their room at home, I suspect because Neriah didn't want to shock Laura too badly. Soft, gray carpet and a queen size bed with a black wire headboard. Gabe's room is tiny and adjoining, with a race car comforter and what looks like every toy imaginable. His adoptive grandparents have agreed to watch him for the weekend.

Finally, it's just me and Isabel who need a room. Neriah smiles at Isabel's impatient bouncing. "And finally you two…_viola_!"

"Oh, man…" Isabel breaths. The room looks like a honeymoon suite. The walls are gold; the bed is large and fluffy, with heart-shaped pillows. "Arkarian…" Isabel tosses a pillow at me. Her eyes are shining. "Do you remember this?"

Boy, do I. This is the room that the Citadel dropped me and Isabel in the first time we were ever on mission together. Before I knew that she loved me too, I mean, and that she could look past the blue hair and purple eyes. "But how…?" I ask Neriah.

"Isabel told me about it," she shrugged. "She sounded like she wanted it back."

Isabel blushes a dark red. "That was a long time ago! I never said that!"

Neriah just giggles. "Remember- 7:00 in the atrium."

The bachelor/bachelorette parties are tonight, rehearsal dinner tomorrow, and the Big Event Saturday. Isabel has pretty much gotten this whole thing planned down to how many cups of ale Lord Penbarin is allowed to drink.

When Neriah finally leaves, I corner Isabel with a grin. "So you requested this room, eh?"

"No!" she cries. "I didn't!" She buries her face in my chest.

"Isabel…" I try to coax her up. "Come on, aren't you going to look at me?"

"No."

I'm about to say something about how far we've come since the last time we were here, but I kiss her hair instead. Her head flies up.

"Okay. You got me." She says, and drags my lips down to hers. "Do you think-" _kiss_ "that this wedding" _kiss_ "will go as planned?"

"I think," I say warmly "that you've _planned_ it beautifully. It _is_, however, Ethan and Rochelle we're talking about here."

"_Why_ does everyone keep saying that?"

* * *

**Sorry for the shortness, but at least it's something, right? It's a transition chapter that needed to be written...please review anyway? Until next time,**

**-HaLo**


	3. I Love You But I've Chosen Darkness

**THANK YOU to those who reviewed the last chapter: Lilangel112, Ethan, RoseZephyr, ladyclaire4161, kzbuckedoff, LovelyLadyJem, Rosy-Izzy-Walters, kenshinroks2111, FMA4EVER, and IdiotAmerica56...please keep them coming, you guys help me so much!**

**disclaimer: I don't own GOT. Period.**

**"Love puts the fun in together, the sad in apart, and the joy in a heart"**

** "The problem with the designated driver program, it's not a desirable job, but if you ever get sucked into doing it, have fun with it. At the end of the night, drop them off at the wrong house."**

* * *

**Matt**

My insane, over-stressed sister has let Dillon plan the bachelor party.

This doesn't seem to sit too well with Rochelle. "But where are you guys _going_?" she insists on knowing. She's sitting on me and Neriah's bed, watching my girl get ready. "What are you _doing_?"

"I don't know," I shrug, because I honestly don't. "What _normally_ goes on at bachelor parties?"

Rochelle frowns.

"Then," I add after some thought, "Dillonize it."

At this, Rochelle goes pale and Neriah cocks an eyebrow. "Dillonize?" She's trying to put her earrings on without a mirror, giving me an amused glance. Her eyes turn to Rochelle. "Don't listen to him, Rochelle. They'll probably just do the ancient Roman equivalent of mini golf."

"Sure, that's definitely what we'll do." I agree. "Mini discus. And _then_ the strippers and dip."

Rochelle groans and flops down on the bed. Neriah playfully glares and whacks me very lightly on the back of my head. She, at least, knows that there's no other girl for me besides her. A fact that she's learned she can exploit by taking up Isabel's delightful habit of hitting me. "Look, Rochelle," I sigh. "The day Ethan cheats on you is the day I'll eat glass, okay? So just have fun, and I'll watch Dillon."

"Thank you, Matt." Rochelle squeezes my hand gratefully. "You're the best best-man."

"Yes, I suppose I am," I concede, staying modest by not pointing out that I am, in fact, an immortal, and not a man. Rochelle rolls her eyes anyways and lets go of my hand.

"That reminds me- where are _we_ going?" She looks curiously at Neriah, who shrugs.

"_That_ is a surprise too."

"Isabel's probably in the atrium already. You can ask her. We'll be down in a minute." I say, trying to sound helpful. Rochelle sees through it straightaway, though.

"Okay, okay, I get the hint. I'm leaving," she throws up her hands. "Don't be too long, Ner."

Neriah still has this sweet little confused look on her face. "What hint?"

I stride across the room and kiss her, just as I've been wanting to all day.

"Oh," Neriah says after catching her breath. "_That_ hint."

"Hey, Neriah?" I say after a minute.

"Yes?" she cocks her head in that I-don't-know-if-I-want-to-hear-this kind of way. I hesitate, but plough on through.

"Does it ever bother you that we can't really get married?"

She looks surprised, and then relieved. "No, it doesn't."

"Really? Never?" I'm relieved to hear this, but I have to make sure.

"Matt," she breaks into her gorgeous smile, but her eyes let me know she's serious. "We're immortal. We don't exactly live a normal life. Marriage would just be pointless- we couldn't be any more bound together. And besides," she leans in closer. "I'll love you forever whether some priest says so or not."

What else is there for me to say? I settle for "I love you," and then pull her into a kiss to show her just how much I mean it. Until I feel her smiling against my lips.

"What?"

She giggles. "Matt, you know we could never say 'Til death do us part' with a straight face, anyway."

* * *

"So, Dillon," Ethan asks. "Where exactly are we going?" 

"Why does everyone keep asking me that?" Dillon demands without him turning around. He's leading us through the streets of Rome. "It's like you people don't trust me."

"Dillon, we know you." I point out, but it doesn't have any sting. Mostly because I'm too busy trying to figure out where we are. Dillon's actually pretty good with directions and figuring out places to go. He's just got this inherent ability of talking to people and loosening them up. Sometimes it has the opposite effect, though. Dillon is the only person I've ever met who makes people want to punch him in the face just for saying hello.

We pass by a few seedy-looking bars with prostitutes in plain view and heavy shouting coming from within. I hold my breath as we go by, half-expecting to go into one of them, relieved when we don't. Instead, we head towards a smaller, out-of-the-way corner of town where there is a tiny tavern with a sign on it that reads _The Silver Arrow_. It's simple, but tidy, with no shouting apparent, or "Paid Company Available" signs.

"Dillon," I say, impressed. "Wow."

"What'd you expect?" Dillon manages to sound affronted.

"Not this," Ethan states truthfully.

"Careful, we haven't seen the inside." Arkarian warns.

"Wow, I'm proving you all wrong." Dillon says wryly. "Thanks for the vote of confidence, guys. Ethan, you go in first then."

"Okay," Ethan, I can tell, is feeling pretty guilty for not believing in Dillon. I follow him in closely anyway, just in case.

"_SURPRISE!_"

Ethan yelps and jumps back, stepping on my foot as literally the whole tavern of people stands up and yells jubilantly. "What the-?" he exclaims as people I've never seen before file past him and offer congratulations. "Matt?!"

"Dillon…" I mutter through clenched teeth, as my foot is still throbbing.

A stout, stocky patron comes up, offering a large, leathery hand. "Good luck, brother. You'll need it, iffen she's anything like my wife. Do yourself a favor now and buy some cotton for yer ears."

"Ah. Yes. Well, thank you…" Ethan stutters. "Dillon…?"

"Who the hell are they?" I ask.

"No idea." Dillon says simply, patting the shoulder of the peasant as he walks out. "They all seemed rather nice though. I just thought I'd make it seem like you had more friends. Plus, the look on your face was priceless."

"Thanks, Dilly," Ethan claps him on the shoulder. "In a weird sort of way, it's touching."

"Alright, let's stop with the weird ways of touching and find a table." Arkarian plainly hasn't been following the conversation correctly at all. Within a few minutes, the tavern has almost emptied out. We get a small table near the back and order drinks. Our waitress is about 40 and looks at Dillon like he's some kind of meat at a market stand.

"Great news, Dill." I say, taking a swig of beer. "We've finally found someone who will go out with you."

"Shut up, Matt," he grumbles into his mug. "I've had girlfriends before."

"Yeah, Matt," Arkarian says in fake indignation. "You're forgetting about Liz."

"Oh , _right_, Liz!" I roll my eyes. "The one who was obsessive compulsive about superstitions."

"Oh, come on-" Dillon protests.

"Dillon, she dumped you because you walked under a ladder on your thirteen-week anniversary."

"Well, okay…"

"And Janice, who made everyone call her Johnny." Ethan remembers. I almost choke on my drink.

"She was hot."

"Dillon, she was-"

"Don't even say it."

"What about Crybaby Carmen?" I remind them.

"Bitchy Betty!"

"Hypochondriac Hilary!"

Even Dillon smiles reluctantly. Suddenly, his eyebrow furrows. For a second I think we've gone too far with the teasing, but he's not looking at us, he's staring at something across the room. Or rather, at some_one_.

A barmaid is waiting on the men at a table in the opposite corner. I hadn't noticed them before. They look like big, burly men. One's got a scar across his cheek.

The barmaid is a pretty thing, alright, with delicate features and a good figure. Her hair is deep red and curly, pinned up somewhat messily. She looks like Dillon's type. "Go for it, Dill." I say, shrugging.

"That's not what I meant. _Look_," he scowls. I turn back to glance. As I watch, one of the men raises his voice a little.

"-Don't need to know _why_, wench, just do it!"

The girl's hands go to her hips, and she says something unintelligible. The one with the scar on his cheek growls and gets up, grabbing her.

"Hey, get your hands off of me!" she shrieks, putting up as much of a fight as she can. Dillon stands up quickly and starts to head over. Ethan, Arkarian and I are all up and following him, knowing what a hotheaded Dillon can do.

"You heard her," Dillon says menacingly. "Let go."

The scum all start to laugh. It's not a happy laugh, though. It's one of those that send chills up and down your spine. They look like a rough lot, and all of my senses are preparing for a fight. I've got my eye on the man to my right, the tall redhead. "I suppose you're gonna make me?" the one holding the girl mocks.

"I can." Dillon says calmly. I can see the muscle twitching in his jaw that is his warning signal. What the scarred man doesn't know is that Dillon is 100 capable of carrying out his threats. I can tell the man is somewhat surprised by Dillon's quiet confidence.

"You try for her, I'll break her neck." He's lying. I can see it, and Dillon knows it. He takes a step forward, placing one hand forcibly on the scarred man's forearm. That's all, one hand. It stays there for about a second before Dillon yanks it back, as if burned. He doesn't look hurt, only surprised. The scarred man does too, and in the next instants, he thrusts the barmaid to the ground. "Take the stupid whore, then. And lad," the scarred man, obviously the leader, gives a jerk of his head to the other men, and then all start departing. But not before he shoves his face very close to Dillon's. "This isn't over. Not by a long shot."

Dillon looks torn between going after him and helping the girl. The girl, still on the ground, wins. "Good thing I was here, huh?" he says, offering a hand.

The girl ignores the hand completely, instead using the table to prop herself up. I feel for her; the fall must have bruised. "Excuse me?"

"I mean, you know, those guys…" Dillon looks less certain now.

"I could have saved myself, you know," she says furiously. "I didn't need you."

"Whoa. Whoa." Dillon is getting slightly angrier, mixed with incredulity. "You're _yelling_ at me for saving your life?"

"I was doing just fine before you showed up. And who says they were going to kill me?"

"Well, whatever they were doing didn't look particularly pleasant. And you were not fine. They were two heads taller than you!"

"And one taller than you, but you could have vanquished them, huh?" she shoots back. "Just because I'm a girl-"

"A _stupid_ girl."

"JUST-"

"JOCELYN! Jocelyn!" Our waitress is waddling towards us, not looking too happy. "What are you doing?"

"Educating," the girl, Jocelyn, replies snippily. It's clear that there's no love lost between these two.

"Well. Get in the kitchens. You've cause quite enough trouble today."

Jocelyn starts to argue, then seems to think better of it, instead turning on a heel and striding into the back, managing to trod on Dillon's foot in the process. "Ow!"

"I don't weigh that much- I am _just_ a girl, if you'll remember," she calls over her shoulder.

"Jocelyn!" the waitress sounds extremely tired.

Arkarian is politely trying to hold in a laugh. Ethan and I aren't bothering. Waitress Woman isn't distracted as she flutters her eyelashes at Dillon. "I'm so sorry about her. We've been having trouble with her here since she started."

"Oh, but it wasn't her fault-" Arkarian starts, but she cuts him off with a glare. It's obvious that she doesn't approve of blue hair.

"It's _always_ the server's fault. Now, will you be requiring anything else?"

"Just the check," a red-faced Dillon mutters, sending vicious thoughts our way.

"Dillon, I don't think that's even anatomically possible." I point out as we escape the tavern.

"It wasn't that funny," he insists.

"Oh, but it was." Ethan is still chuckling. "Her face, your face when she yelled at you, and then…haha, oh, stepping on your foot…" And then he and Arkarian are off again in a fit of laughter.

"It's okay, Dillon. You struck out grandly, man." I offer a little encouragement. He rolls his eyes and waves it off. "Oh, by the way: what was with the man? The scarred one? What happened when you touched him?"

"What? Oh, that." He shrugs. "It was just weird. When I touched him, I felt something stir. Something evil."

"Well, we know he wasn't nice." Arkarian comments. "And isn't sensing evil kind of Rochelle's alley, anyway?"

"Normally, yes, but I felt something this time. I think it was the heightened emotional stress. But it wasn't just regular evil. It was a special kind."

I think this over for a minute, resisting the jibes that could be made about the "heightened emotional stress". One thing I hadn't expected was for this weekend to include any kind of trouble, especially of the evil variety. "We'll watch out," I say. "It could be that it has nothing to do with us. Those guys might be just bad men. But for right now," I slap Dillon on the back. "You look like you could use a beer. Or two."

"Or five," he agrees.

* * *

**Rochelle **

The bachelorette party that Isabel has planned includes going to a spa. A spa. Where people that you don't know touch you. And it's supposed to be relaxing.

_What is she thinking?!_

"You're here to relax, Rochelle." Neriah laughs quietly. "You're getting married Saturday. Enjoy your last few days of being single."

"Yeah, yeah…" I mumble. "I can't wait."

There's a little diner where we go first. It has fried dormice. Isabel dares me to try them, so I can't say no, of course. They're actually surprisingly good. "We should have these as appetizers for the reception," I say, keeping my face totally straight. "They'd be a hit. We just can't tell people what they are."

Isabel's eyes go huge. "Um…sure, Rochelle, if that's what you _really_ want…"

I laugh, along with Neriah. "No, no Isabel. We're joking. The stuffed crab or chicken wings or whatever will be fantastic."

"Oh, wow," she expels a breath. "Thank God! I thought you were serious. Anyways, it's present time."

"I get presents? At a bachelorette party?" I've never been to one before, so I have no idea if this is normal or not.

"It is," Neriah assures me. She's never been to one either, I know for a fact. She was barely allowed to go to Prom. And Isabel's only eighteen, so she's never thrown one either. We're kind of winging it.

"Alright, bring it on then," I say, taking the present that Neriah hands me.

"That one's from Laura. She wanted to come, but Shaun made her stay to help him with Gabe."

Inside is a blanket that she obviously made herself. It has a picture of nine people on it, all silhouetted. I can just make out Isabel's funky stance, Neriah's head tilt, and Ethan's height. Stitched underneath are the words "When the power of love overcomes the love of power, the World will have peace."

"Oh, it's gorgeous!" Isabel breathes. I have to agree. I wish Laura were here so I could thank her.

"Mine next!" Neriah smiles, placing a small, thin package in my hands. Inside is a necklace with a locket hanging from it.

"Oh, thank you-"

"Open it!" Neriah giggles. I do, and inside on one side is a picture of Ethan and I. It's one that we posed for together. You can tell we've just been through a training session because of our clothes, but our smiles are bright and happy. I see Ethan's hand getting ready to poke my side in the background. On the other half is what looks like a watch, only where the numbers should be, there are words. At the twelve says "Home", where the one should be says "School", and on they range, from "Trouble" to "Mortal Peril" to "Dead." Currently the hand is pointing to "With friends".

"It tells you where he is!" Neriah points. "See? So now, whenever you're worried, you can tell if he's safe or not."

I laugh, along with Isabel. "Thank you, Neriah."

"No problem. It will also work if he holds it for you."

"He'll use it more than she will," Isabel grins. I stick out my tongue as I clasp it on.

"Notice how it doesn't add 'With friends and strippers'." I point out.

"Will you just shut up about the boys?" Isabel rolls her eyes. "They're probably having innocent fun just like we are- no fights, or girls. Got it?" She pulls out a bag filled with tissue paper. "Okay, now my present will distract you."

I grin and open it, quickly feeling my jaw drop and cheeks heat up as I realize what it is. "Isabel!"

"Well, someone had to give it to you," she grins. "And it wasn't gonna be Laura. And I don't think that Neriah even knows what it is."

"What _is_ it?" Neriah leans over to look. "Oh, my."

Suffice to say, it's chocolate. And wearable. Barely.

"There's body paint, too," Isabel smiles wickedly.

"Oh my…well, thank you! SO much. For everything. Not just for...er, you know…"

"No problem, babe." We share a group hug, careful not to squish the presents, and then it's time for our spa appointment.

Which, actually, isn't painful at all. It's like lying out in the sun for a while.

Isabel's a genius.

* * *

Ethan's already in our room by the time we get back. Lying in bed, actually. I sneak up, ready to pounce on him. Closer…one more step… 

"So how was the party?"

I utter a small "eep!" and leap back. "Wow, so you're awake."

"Of course I'm awake. You weren't back yet." He sits up, turning on the light. "How'd it go?"

"It was fun. I have presents!" I exclaim. But he can wait to see them until after the wedding. Especially the edible one. "How'd Dillon do in planning? You're back early."

"Oh, you know…" he shrugs. "Once the strippers left, it was pretty boring."

"WHAT?" My face must have turned several shades of white, because I feel my heart in my toes. _Relax, calm down Rochelle. You knew this would happen. It's standard. Just play it cool…oh, damn it._ "Oh….well…that's…um…"

Then I see the twinkle in the blue eyes. "ETHAN! You're _teasing_ me?!"

He laughs gently. "I'm sorry…you're just really funny when you get jealous. And it's nice to be the one in charge for once."

I pretend to pout, just because I can't get over the fact that he teased me about _strippers_ of all things. He sighs and takes me by the hand, pulling me closer. "Rochelle?"

"What?"

"Even if there had been a stripper, I would have asked her to leave. _You_ are the one I want. Would I be marrying you if I didn't?"

"I love you," I bury my face in his neck. "So much. You're going to _love_ some of the presents. So what did you do, if there were no strippers?"

He grins. "Well, there was one bar for a little bit, and then we wandered back to the Coliseum and had a few drinks with Lord Penbarin and King Richard. And now, I'm here. Now, about those gifts…"

* * *

**I do apologize for the wait; it was very frustrating to have this chapter be deleted and have to rewrite it. Did it come out as good as the original? Of course not. Do I beg for your reviews anyway? YES!!!!!**

**1) Neriah's gift for Rochelle was influenced byMrs. Weasley's clock in Harry Potter.**

**2) I Love You But I've Chosen Darkness is a US indie rock band.**

**-HaLo**


	4. Some You Give Away

**"The course of true love never did run smooth."**

**-William Shakespeare**

**"The major difference between a thing that might go wrong and a thing that cannot possibly go wrong is that when a thing that cannot possibly go wrong goes wrong it usually turns out to be impossible to get at or repair." **

**-Douglas Adams**

**Disclaimer: If you recognize it from the books, tis not mine!**

* * *

Dillon 

_Boom._

It's thundering. God. Head. Hurts.

_Boom._

Wait a minute. It doesn't thunder here. I'm in the Coliseum. I hope.

_BOOM._

Oh, someone's knocking on my door.

"Go. Away." I moan and roll over, even that smallest action sending an unpleasant ringing sensation through my ears.

"Oh, come on Dill. Rise and shine!" My now ex-friend Matt ignores the closed door that obviously means _I'm Dying. Do Not Disturb_, and even has the audacity to whistle as he raises the window shades, letting the warm sunshine in.

Bright sunshine. It sends my eyes into spasms of pain, and I am forced to jam a pillow over my poor, dead head. What even _happened_ last night? Why do I feel like I've been hit by a truck and dropkicked off a bridge?

"I don't think Lord Penbarin's ever had a mortal- actually, _anyone_- beat him at a chugging tequila contest before." Matt grins, taking a seat on the edge of my bed.

Oh. Right. _That's_ why.

"Man," he's still smiling that stupid, non-hung-over-at-all smirk; I can hear it in his voice. I want to smack it right off his face. "If thoughts could kill…"

"Ha-ha," I mumble through the pillow. If I had the energy, I'd flick him off. But I don't.

"Here buddy, take these. They'll make you somewhat alive."

I sit up fast, too fast for my head. As the roar in my ears diminishes, I eye the two white tablets he's holding out in his hand with a bottle of water. "Are they magical pills?"

"Aspirin," he shrugs.

"Anything," I down the bottle of water. I can open my eyes fully now, feeling a little bit better already. "So what's happening?"

"Well…" he smiles. It's a smile that I don't really like. I start to regret asking. "Isabel's freaking out."

"Oh," I roll my eyes. "Wow. She's usually _so_ calm. What is it this time?"

"Plates. We don't have them for tonight, apparently."

I sigh. I was stupid enough to why. Now I'm going to be asked to go get them. "Do we _need_ them?"

"Dillon, it's a rehearsal _dinner_."

"Right."

"So…do you think you could maybe go into Athens and get us some?"

I knew it. "Matt, you're an immortal. Why don't you have the ability to conjure up plates?"

He rolls his eyes. "I don't know. I guess nobody ever figured that _plates_ would be necessary in the fight against the Root of all Evil."

I can't think of a single reason to say no, so I heave one huge sigh to express my displeasure and nod. "Good man!" he smiles brightly, clapping me on the shoulder. I wince. Aspirin may be a miracle drug, but even it can only go so far.

"No need to shout."

Which is how, an hour and some clothes later, I find myself wandering around the town square. Vendors are on all sides of me, trying to sell everything from haircuts to make-your-own-love-potion kits.

"Get your remedies here! Cures everything from boils to freckles! No guarantee!"

"Candles! Scented using herbs from the Witch's garden! Better than Vanora's candles!"

"Books to trade! Make excellent fire fuel, and wipers! Trade for food!"

I sigh in frustration as the crowd jostles, anxious to get all the best bargains. Where is the plate section? Is there even a plate section? I wonder if Matt remembered that we weren't at home. I can't just run up to the nearest drugstore and buy a stack of paper plates.

Steering away from a large, beefy man selling lion cubs, I head back towards the middle of town. Maybe Isabel doesn't need matching plates. I mean, it's only a rehearsal, right?

"GET OUT OF THE WAY! MOVE!"

Behind me is a commotion of shouting and screams. I turn to see an obviously out-of-control chariot being yanked by two huge horses. The driver, a soldier, is yelling at the people who are dashing in front of it and diving out of the way. As I watch, the edge catches on a poor woman's fish stand and tears the whole thing down. One beam knocks the beefy fellow with the lions on the head. A few women scream who aren't even in the way, and I see why. There's a little girl in front of the chariot, too petrified to run. "MOVE!"

She can't. I don't even think about what's going to happen, I just start running. Instead of slowing down and seeing slow motion, which would have been helpful, everything seems to speed up, and for two agonizing seconds, I don't think that either the girl or myself is going to make it before the chariot crushes us. I feel the wind as it passes us by, missing by mere centimeters.

There isn't even a long, gaping silence. I need one, to recover my wits, but everyone else has already moved on, wailing over their crushed wares and arguing. Some are laughing at the absurdity of the hens, having gotten loose from their cages, running away from the fat owner as he chases them around the market place.

A few people clap, at me I realize, and slap me on the back before going off on their business.

"Good job, son."

"Way to go, sir. Didn't think you were going to make it there for a minute."

"Right stupid thing to do, if you ask me, but at least you saved the brat."

Obviously rogue chariots are no huge thing to these people.

"Evie! EVIE!" A woman's hysterical cries reach my ears, jolting me from my stupor. The girl in my arms begins to kick in response, crying to be free. Ungrateful brat. I let her go, and she runs straight into the arms of the upset woman.

"Jossey! Jossey! I'm sorry!"

"Honey, never _ever_ do that to me again! I told you to stay right by me didn't I? You could have been killed!"

The woman seems familiar somehow. Especially her voice.

"The horses! They were pwetty!" the little girl is insisting. The woman doesn't seem hysterical anymore, even smiling a little at the girl's matter-of-fact logic.

"Well all the same, Eve, those pretty horses would have stepped on you if that man hadn't pushed you out of the way."

"That hurted!" The little girl, Evie, is glaring at me now, as if it were somehow my fault that she was in trouble. The woman looks up too.

"Thank you, sir, for…" the tired smile fades as she recognizes me. In the same instant, I know her: Jocelyn, the girl from the tavern.

Oh, dear.

"Um…hi…" I grin awkwardly. I mentally slap myself. _Hi_? Smooth, Dillon, real smooth. "How, um, are you?"

Kill me now.

"Fine." She looks just as uncomfortable as I feel, which is slightly helpful.

"You were saying?" I grin. A flush rises in her cheeks, and I see a little bit of annoyance in her eyes, but she opens her mouth to answer.

"Thank you very much for rescuing my sister. She tends to let curiosity get the better of her sometimes, and, well…"

"I have friends like that." I roll my eyes in understanding. I didn't mention that I am the problem just as often. At least she's not yelling at me. "Sister?"

"Yes, my only one. She's in my care. I don't know what I would've done if she was…taken away." The thought of her sister being dead is obviously a painful one. I have no siblings, so I can't be sure, but I'm sensing that this bond is a particularly strong one.

"Well, your parents wouldn't have been happy, that's for sure." I try to joke.

"Well, they probably wouldn't be, but they're not around anymore. They died of typhoid a year ago." This is said matter-of-factly, with no sad eyes or tears. She seems rather preoccupied with trying to make sure Evie doesn't run over to examine the snakes that are being made to dance.

Smooth, Dillon, real smooth. _Why_ does every conversation with this girl always make me feel like a world-class idiot? "Oh…I'm sorry." I blurt.

She shrugs, hugging Evie again. Obviously this is a topic that is not open for discussion. "So what are you doing here?"

"Buying plates," I say. "For my friend's wedding rehearsal dinner. Are you here with no chaperone?"

"Um, no…" she giggles slightly. I feel my face heat up. Was this the wrong thing to say? Don't they need chaperones in this time period? Maybe that was England, a few centuries into the future. "I'm looking for work, actually."

"Don't you have a job already?"

"I was fired yesterday, coincidently," she raises her chin. "I was apparently rude to a patron that my boss liked."

"Oh…_Oh…_" And, that's strike three for me. I had no idea that the altercation at the bar yesterday would cause Jocelyn to lose her job. "Well, I guess I did deserve it a little…"

"A little?" her blue eyes are suddenly flashing. "You guess?"

"Well, yeah…" The air has decidedly gotten hotter. Maybe it's the sparks coming from her eyes. Still, I can't just back down on this. If I'm going to be seen as an asshole, I better be one all the way. "I mean…all I tried to do was help you. I didn't think that was such a bad thing. It was you who should have been thanking me!"

"Did I ask for your help?" she demands, tossing the mane of red curls, not even waiting on an answer. "I can take care of myself. I've been doing it for years now. Nobody gives people help for free, especially men. What would you have expected from me after 'saving' me?"

I blink. "Um, nothing."

"Ha!"

There is a tug on my breeches. It's Evie. "What's your name?" I can see the resemblance to Jocelyn. Both have the delicate facial features, and the big blue eyes. Evie's curls are blonder though, more strawberry.

I bend down so I'm more eye level with her. She's less scary than her older sister. "I'm Dillon. You're Evie. Right?"

"Right," she grins. "I'm four."

"Wow, I thought you were five." I say. She practically bursts with pride. "Are you helping your sister?"

"Yes, I am. She says that some arse-butt got her sent away."

"I'm guessing that's a direct quote," I mumble, looking up to where Jocelyn is determinedly looking away, a dull pink rising in her cheeks. "Well, it happens."

"We're finding her a better job," the four-year-old continues. "So she won't cry anymore."

"I don't cry," Jocelyn finally intercedes, scooping up the little girl in her arms.

"Yes, you do." Evie nods. "I hear you at night."

"How would you know? You're asleep. Probably dreaming." Jocelyn's cheeks are so full of color now that one could easily mistake her for a fire hydrant. If there were any around here. Which, since it's Athens a thousand years ago, there's not.

God, even my _thoughts_ are stupid around her.

"Listen," I say loudly, partially to distract myself and partially to stop their bickering. "My friend needs some serving help at their dinner tonight and at the wedding reception. Why don't you come to help? They'll pay you well, I promise."

She looks somewhat suspicious. "No, thank you. I don't take charity."

I roll my eyes. "It's _not_. They really do need help, and you're good. Besides, you'll be working. It's not like anybody's throwing money at you!"

"I don't know…" she's still hesitant. Evie looks at me and shakes her head, pulling on one of Jocelyn's curls. What a wise four-year-old. "Stop it, Eve. I have no one to watch Evie while I'm gone. And…" she bites her lip. "I don't want you to give me the job because you feel sorry for me."

"Feel sorry for you? I'm sorry for myself at the moment." I assure her. "My friend dragged me out of bed from a massive hangover, and I have to pick out matching plates for another friend who's nearly _impossible_ to please. Especially since this wedding is supposed to be perfect. Also, there's this really annoying girl that either yells at me or makes me feel stupid, and she won't help me out at all."

"Eloquently put, Master Dillon." Her smile is sunny and slightly incredulous. "I would, but what about Evie?"

"Evie can come with you." I say confidently. "Trust me, the bride and groom have a son about her age. They'll get along great, and maybe keep each other out of our hair."

"Alright, fine," she relents finally. Then she laughs.

"What?"

"You really were just trying to be nice at the tavern, weren't you? No strings attached?"

"There, yes." I nod. "But this time, I need a favor…"

* * *

Isabel is not amused when I blare "Everybody Dance Now" instead of the "Wedding March" from the speakers like I am supposed to. 

I don't see why. "It's a new revolutionary theory." I insist when she yells at me. "Instead of marching up the aisle, Rochelle can moonwalk!"

"In those heels?!"

"Well, do the Worm then." I shrug. "Just something different."

"NO."

After the traditional wedding march (Arkarian is giving Rochelle away), Ethan and Rochelle stand there trying not to laugh as King Richard constantly flubs his lines. He keeps messing up the "therefores" and the "wherefores". Although Isabel was brought up Roman Catholic, this wedding really has no religious ties. No mass with the ceremony or anything. Which is good, because I'm falling asleep already.

Isabel looks really frustrated. Arkarian keeps trying to talk to her. "Not now," she brushes him away. Hm…trouble in paradise?

Finally, the actually rehearsal is somewhat over, after being only a minor disaster, and it's time for dinner.

"These platters are really something, Dillon." Rochelle holds one up. "Did you seriously get them yourself?"

"Yep," I say proudly. "Well, okay, I had a little help…but seriously, no one here lives up to Isabel's high standards."

"I know," she lowers her voice a little. "Poor thing. She's really stressing out over this. I keep telling her that I'll help, that little things really don't matter, but…"

"She'll manage it," Ethan assures his fiancée, rubbing her shoulders. "Who helped you, Dill?"

"Oh, this girl…" I shrug casually. "No big deal."

"Yes big deal!" Neriah watches my face. I have a nasty feeling that she's picked up some of my thoughts too. "You met a girl!"

"Why is it such a shock to everyone whenever I do that?" I say irritably.

"Dillon!" Evie comes running up, chased by Gabe. "Hi!"

"Hey Evie, Gabe…" I let them climb into my lap. "Are you guys being good?"

"Yes," they both say angelically. I don't trust either one of them. Evie starts to show me something she nicked from the kitchens, a gold apple, and I listen, trying to ignore Neriah and Rochelle's exchanged looks that say "_Who is she? Aw, isn't Dillon acting cute?"_

Evie's presence means that Jocelyn showed up, too. I was kind of torn as to whether or not she actually would. I see her when the next course is being served, however. She offers the chicken to everyone, smiling brightly. When she gets to me, her smile falters a little. "Oh, dear…is she bothering you? Evie get off of him."

"No, she's fine," I smile. Evie gets off anyway, yelling to Gabe about finding a secret tunnel. There are probably quite a few in here. "I hope they don't get lost."

"It might do Evie some good," she snorts. "She needs to be scared once and awhile. She's scared of nothing right now." There's pride in her voice, though. "This is a huge place. Strange I've never noticed it before."

Dartemus agreed to make the entrance of the Coliseum available to the Athenians hired to help. To them it's a mansion, but a little bigger than it looks. Nobody seems to notice. It's amazing what the human brain will block out when it's not logical. "Oh, not that strange," I say lightly.

"Well, I've got to go serve the others." She blushes slightly and motions to the neglected side of the table. Matt is staring with his mouth wide open. He remembers her from last night obviously. I nod, but before she goes, she turns. "Thank you, again, Dillon, for this. I mean, Master Dillon. It really helps."

"No problem." I say, waving her off. "What?" I don't like the way Rochelle and Neriah are smiling at me. Ethan has the same stunned look as Matt does. "You can close your mouth now, Ethan. You'll let flies in."

"Is that…the girl from last night?"

"Jocelyn? Yes, it is." I take a big drink of wine. But the subject isn't as closed as I hoped.

"The same one that was screaming at you? And stepped on your foot?"

"Yes," I wince at the memory. Neriah is giggling now. "As it turns out, the boss fired her for that. She needed a job. I met her in the marketplace this morning."

"You got her fired, and she still talked to you? God, she almost killed you for helping her!"

"Well, there's a bit more to that. I saved Evie from this rogue chariot-"

"Is that her daughter?" Rochelle asked, looking curiously in the direction the little girl had gone.

"No, her little sister. Her parents died last year, and I get the sense that that little girl is the only thing she's got left."

"How horrible," I can practically see Neriah's heart going out to her. "It was a good thing you did then, Dillon."

Ethan seems to have gotten over his shock and is laughing now. At me. Rochelle is grinning too.

"Oh, Dillon…"

"What?"

"You like her."

"No, I don't." I say firmly, taking another sip of wine. "She's mean, remember?"

"Then why is your elbow in the butter dish?"

Oops.

"I like her taste in pottery." Neriah examines a platter.

"Dillon likes a lot more than that…" Ethan teases.

Luckily, there is a distraction from me right at that moment. Isabel stands up furiously from where she's been talking to Arkarian. "What do you want from me?" she demands. "I'm doing all I can! Maybe this isn't even about you at all!"

"Well, it would nice to _talk_ to you about it-"

"Why don't you leave me alone for the rest of the weekend?"

"Why don't I leave you alone for a long time?"

"Sounds good to me! How does _forever_ sound?"

Before he can reply (and I'm betting his answer would have been "Not great"), she turns to the rest of us. "I'm tired, I'm going to bed. Don't drink too much, we have a wedding tomorrow."

And then she's gone. Neriah jumps up after her. Arkarian looks shaken. "Hey, Arkarian…"

"No thanks, Ethan. I'm going to bed too. Lord Penbarin will probably let me crash in his place."

Once he's gone, Rochelle moans and buries her face in her hands. "I _told_ you we should have eloped," she mutters to Ethan. "Just one little trip to Las Vegas, that's all I said…"

"Yes, but then Isabel would have killed you." Matt mentions. "And that would have been no good either."

"I better go find her." Rochelle stands up, kissing Ethan. "See you guys tomorrow."

Even Jimmy looks kind of worn out. "Maybe turning in early isn't such a bad idea. We _do _have to get ready for a wedding bright and early tomorrow."

It _is_ kind of early. The wedding is at eleven, so why Isabel's itinerary says I have to wake up at eight, I have no clue.

Soon it's just me, Matt, and Ethan in the dining room. "So, Dillon…" Matt turns to me with a smirk. "You're in love with the Bar Maid now?"

"No."

"But she's here."

"No."

"She's not yelling at you, either."

"Aren't you tired, too?"

"No, Neriah made me drink coke instead of ale. It really jazzes up an immortal. So, you _really_ got her fired?"

This, I can tell already, is going to be a long night.

* * *

**Okay, I'm sorry! My muse of inspiration left me for a time, but he's back now. Sorry if this chapter seemed a little rushed, especially the end, but i really, REALLY wanted to get this out tonight. THANK YOU ALL so much for your reviews: RoseZephyr, 2runaway, mugglecastlover31, LovelyLadyJem, ladyclaire4161, Hiho, tureLuV, FMA4EVER, IdiotAmerica56, Queen Mary Sue, KateShepard108, Dark Cloud Lighten my Path, and kenshinroks2111... **

**PLEASE keep them coming! They're a huge help! Until next time,**

**HaLo**


	5. Everything I Fight For

Disclaimer: I do NOT own GOT, or anything affiliated with it.

"In the absence of love, there is nothing worth fighting for."

-Elijah Wood

* * *

**Ethan **

Every morning, I wake up to the warmth of Rochelle's soft form against me, or I can just reach out and she's there. So, this morning, when I reach over and find nothing but air, I'm suddenly wide-awake. "Rochelle?"

I look over the edge of the bed, thinking maybe she rolled over and fell in the middle of the night…nope; she's not sprawled out on the carpeted floor. "Rochelle?" I raise my voice slightly.

Where _is_ she?

I'm just starting to panic when I see the note on the bedside table. Did she leave for home, and this is a goodbye letter? A ransom note? The thought freaks me out. With shaking fingers, I open it.

_Good morning, husband-to-be,_

_Isabel and Neriah have kidnapped me, since it is apparently bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the wedding. Good luck getting ready, and figuring out how the cummerbund goes on. I'm so excited. I love you!_

_Rochelle_

I breathe a sigh of relief. That cummerbund thing **is** going to be a problem though.

I get dressed in a t-shirt and jeans and head downstairs, not even getting lost. And Rochelle's not even here to see it, of course. She'll never believe me.

"But what did you _do_?" I hear Dillon's voice floating from the side kitchens before I enter it. He's standing across the counter from Arkarian, braced with his hands. Arkarian looks kind of tired, and trying to eat.

"I didn't do anything."

"Isabel doesn't just blow up for _nothing_."

Oh. That's what they're talking about. I decide that this would be a good time to make my entrance and save Arkarian. "Hey, boys."

"Hey, Groom-to-be, how'd you sleep?" Matt claps me on the shoulder.

"Fantastic, actually…what did you do to me?" I ask suspiciously.

"Nothing! Sheesh…can't a guy inquire about his best friend's sleep anymore without being labeled as suspicious?"

I take a seat next to Arkarian and pop a few grapes into my mouth. "Sure they can. But this is you. And I'm me. And I know that Neriah and Isabel would never normally have been able to get Rochelle out of the room without me waking up. I mean, I even wake up when she goes to the bathroom."

"That's true love right there, that is." Dillon smirks.

Matt grins too. "Okay, well technically _I_ didn't do anything, Neriah did. She put a sleeping spell on you. Don't you feel well rested and ready to get married?"

"Does the sleeping spell cause nightmares?" I ask casually. No need to alarm anyone, right?

"Not that I know of. It should prevent them, actually. Why?"

"Oh, I don't know…I just got this bad feeling kind of. Like nervous, about today."

Immediately Matt and Arkarian's faces relax into grins. "No shit, dude. You're getting married today. Of course you're nervous!"

I try to smile too. "No, guys, I don't think that's it. Trust me. I'm ecstatic about being married. I've been dreaming about marrying this girl since 11th grade! I think I was picking up danger signals from today or something."

"Don't worry, Ethan, it's only natural." Dillon soothes. He obviously doesn't believe me. "I'd be freaking out too. One girl for the rest of my life? Tied down until death do you part? Making all of those decisions, worrying about someone else more than you worry for yourself? There's a _reason_ they call it the old ball and chain, you know-"

"Dillon. Shut up. This is not what he needs." Arkarian snaps. He's looking a little pale himself, actually. "Ethan, you'll be fine. Marriage is quite a magical undertaking-"

"Oh, how would you know?" Dillon mutters. Arkarian looks pissed. What's wrong with him?

"Hey, Dilly, how's Butter Dish Girl treatin' ya?" Matt smirks. Dillon turns a bright red. "Oh. Does that mean that she hit you again? Do you need a band-aid?"

"Okay, I'm _this close_ to-"

"Alright, boys, I can see we're one big happy family here." My dad comes into the kitchen suddenly. Arkarian and Dillon look sullen, Matt's still smirking, and Jimmy follows Dad into the room. "Ethan, how'd you sleep?"

This, at least, prompts a smile from both Dillon and Arkarian. "Fine," I say quickly, not eager to repeat the entire earlier conversation. "How about you?"

"Like a baby, actually. Maybe it was the alcohol."

Matt laughs. "Must have been."

"Anyways," I can see Dad's shoulder's straighten, which means that he's about to organize. I feel a wave of relief, since Isabel is nowhere to be found, probably with Rochelle somewhere, and nobody here really seems in the mindset to take charge. "Matt, you and I have some more set-up to do. Dillon, a girl named Jocelyn wants 'your scrawny butt in the main kitchen _now_', and Arkarian…would you please, please help Ethan get ready? I've been warned that he can't manage a cummerbund."

Matt's laughing openly at Dillon, who is red and pleased-looking as he walks as fast as he can through the swinging red door from which delicious smells have begun to seep. I smile and wolf whistle immaturely, but then turn my attention back to Dad. "So you've seen Rochelle, then?" I ask.

"Yes, I have." Dad looks a little puzzled, but unalarmed.

"She's okay?"

"She's perfectly fine. Excited, and a little miffed about the ribbons, maybe, but happy."

"Okay," I let him think the reason for my concern is that I don't want my bride to skip out on me. "How's Gabe?"

"Laura's got him and that girl Evie getting ready. Are _you_ okay, son?"

"I'm fine." I nod, smiling to convince him. "Thanks. I'll see you soon."

As soon as they're all gone, Arkarian grins. "Relax, Eth. Rochelle is fine. You're both fine. Nothing is going to screw up today."

"I know that…I just would really feel better if I could see her once. You know, to make sure that nothing is wrong."

Arkarian shakes his head. "Trust me, Ethan. If anything was wrong, Isabel would beat it back into shape."

I watch as that shadow passes his face, deciding to take a chance. "So you two haven't made up yet, huh?"

He shakes his head again. "Nope."

"What did you do?"

"Nothing."

"Come on, Arkarian…" I'm starting to feel like Dillon a little bit. "Please?"

"I'm telling the truth. I did nothing, and I think therein lies the problem."

"What?"

"Well, she's been planning this wedding," he sighs. "And I think it reminded her that we can never have that. So she's being angry with me to cover up her hurt."

"Yes, you can." I'm still kind of confused. "Why not?"

"With my hair? And our conditions? No self-respecting mortal is going to marry two people who never age."

I look at him like he's stupid. "So who says a mortal has to marry you two?"

It takes only a few seconds for him to catch on. "Oh my…you and Rochelle…King Richard is marrying you!"

"Yep," I wince a little, remembering the…interesting…way he'd gone about it at the rehearsal. I hope he's at least practiced a bit. "There's no reason you and Isabel can't get married too. Not that it really matters, since you and Isabel are going to be together forever anyway. Nice to have the reassurance, I guess. I bet she's been waiting this whole weekend for you to figure it out, and she's exasperated with your stupidity."

"Hey!" Arkarian defends himself half-heartedly. He's got this big smile on his face. "Not entirely true."

"Arkarian…" I stare at him. "Dillon figured it out like last week. This makes you the dumbest smart person ever."

"Alright, fine. Let's go watch you put on your cummerbund properly then. I could use a good laugh. And then I'm finding Isabel."

"Ha-ha." I say dryly, but follow him out the door, secretly stashing a cinnamon roll in my pocket. Most of the unease I woke up with this morning is gone. Maybe the guys were right. It _was_ pre-wedding jitters.

Probably.

Isabel has really gone all out in this wedding. I'll have to thank her somehow. The room is big, with crème-colored walls and golden trim. There are four huge tapestries on the wall, each depicting some scene of beauty. One has fairies, one has flowers…you get the gist. Girly stuff. But I don't mind, because I'm currently standing right in front of King Richard, getting ready to be married. To Rochelle. The music starts, beautiful classical music that Isabel approved.

Secretly, I kind of liked the 'Everybody Dance Now' better. It had rhythm. I had visions of it being like some kind of musical where all the wedding guests got up and did the exact same dance while Rochelle sashayed down the aisle. That would have been cool.

Oh my God, I sound like Dillon.

All of my stupid thoughts go out of my head when the doors of the room open and Rochelle starts walking. This music fits her somehow…it's beautiful and elegant. Not too sappy. Watching her smile at the guests, I begin to think back on everything that has brought us here.

"_Ethan, Matthew, this is Rochelle Thallimar." _

_The girl standing next to Mr. Trevale is drop-dead gorgeous. Her dark hair shines as she runs a hand through it nervously. "Hi Matt…Ethan." _

_Her deep green eyes slide over to mine and I think I might stop breathing. I can't even form a sentence. Or even a reply. Matt is obviously just as struck, but he recovers faster. "Hey there…want me to show you around?"_

_For just a second longer, her gaze holds mine. And then, she's giving a 100-watt smile to my best friend. "Sure, I'd love that."_

_For the first time, I'm jealous of Matt._

_Oooooooo_

_I'm with Matt and Isabel, getting off the school bus. I feel a jolt through my heart as I see Rochelle sitting on the bench. Matt's seen her too. I see his jaw clench and I wonder what kind of feelings he still harbors for the girl that once pretended to love him in order to satisfy Marduke's revenge. He turns away, but I keep looking. I can't seem to help it. She's just as beautiful as ever, but she looks different. Hardened. More vulnerable, sitting alone. Has she always been alone? I can't remember her ever having any friends but Matt. _

"_Ah, I wonder what you're thinking right now." Isabel's voice startles me. She's smirking slightly at me, darting a glance to Rochelle. _

"_About what?" I try to play it off. _

"_Well, since it's over between Matt and Rochelle… I thought maybe…"_

_THIS makes me turn my head quickly and stare at her. "What are you on about? You know I can't stand the girl."_

_Isabel rolls her eyes and lowers her voice to a whisper. "She's one of us now."_

"_Yeah, but that doesn't mean I trust her." From the look on her face, she doesn't believe me. I'm not sure I believe me either._

"_You stood up for her once, before all the members of the Tribunal."_

_I choose to ignore her, because I have no reply. She's right, and I know it. What _is _it about that dark-haired girl that I can't seem to ignore?_

_OOOOOOOOO_

_Rochelle and Isabel are in the room that's been assigned to us in Ancient Rome. We're here to stop an assassination attempt of Julius Caesar. Rochelle is on her first mission ever for the guard. She and Isabel have just found out that the nanny and a steward are suspiciously brewing something. "They suspect us," she says. "And no doubt they do by now, they're going to speed up their plans. They're going to make sure that they finish their job before we even work out what they're up to." Her large, hard green eyes fall on me. "Where have you been? Did you find out anything useful?"_

_I shrug, reporting my conversation with the great Julius Caesar himself. He needed advice about Marc Antony._

"_That's not up to us." Rochelle reminds me. I know this. "Remember we took an oath."_

_I, of all people, know this. Why is she reminding me? She's the new recruit. Marduke probably did things differently. "What do you think I am? An idiot? I'm not going to do anything to jeopardize the future. I learned that lesson from my father's problems with Marduke. I don't cave to temptation." I deliver this last line with all the venom I can muster. Looking into her eyes, I know I've hit a nerve. _

_Isabel coughs. "Look you two, fighting isn't going to get us anywhere."_

_No, but it's making me feel a little better. "Tell _her."_ I cross my arms like a three year old instead. _

_Rochelle breaks eye contact first and goes to the door. She exhales a long breath that sounds almost sad. "Why don't we split up?"_

"_Great idea." I mumble, heading out the door. It hurts too much to stay in the room with her any longer. I can feel my anger returning just by looking at her. Old feelings that I can't seem to repress. _

_It doesn't stop me later though, in the fighting, when I see her struggling with a member of the Order. And his knife. She's brave to the point of stupidity. I use my power of animation to get her away from the burly steward. And when I growl, "You're not going to die here in the past! Do you understand?" I don't mean it just for the rest of the Named, but also a little bit for myself._

_OOOOOOOOOO_

_We're in the Underworld, trying to save Arkarian from Lathenia before it's too late. Our wren-guide, John, leads us to an ice tunnel. To go through, we have to face our inner demons. I'm not worried. My sister's murder I've seen in my dreams, and my mother I can save. At first, there is only silence. Then, a deep screaming begins in the walls. Thousands of people, all screaming. They're saying things. I can't make out exactly what, but all are desperate and urging. My blood runs cold as one voice I recognize all-too-well becomes apparent. _

"_Save me, Ethan! Ethan!" I whip around quickly and see Rochelle, stuck in that wall. Both hands are bloodied and pressed hard against the ice, as if she can't quite get through. "You've got to help me! PLEASE!" I run and try to break the ice, but I can't. I look and I can see more blood appearing on her. From where, I can't tell. Her eyes are sad, and desperate for anything that I can do. She believed I could save her. "ETHAN! Please! I'm sorry!"_

_I can see light at the end of the tunnel. _Remember what John said. It's not real. She's not real. _The things I tell myself can't hide her widened eyes as she realizes that I'm not going to save her. "Ethan! Don't leave me! ETHAN!" _

_Her cries won't fade as I stagger out into the ice, holding my head with both hands. Isabel is already there. "We can't go back that way." I tell her as the screams finally start to fade. "There has to be another way. OK?"_

"_Do you want to talk about it?"_

_I'm not sure I can. After a little bit of prodding from her, I finally try to explain my trauma. "I saw Rochelle. I saw her face in the wall. Did you see those walls? They were full of people. I think they were dead, but hell, Isabel, they were screaming!" she stays silent, and it's easier for me to tell the next part. "Rochelle was one of those people, screaming for me to save her. What do you think it means?"_

_Isabel's had a different experience, and doesn't know. I can see that she doesn't think it matters, either. _

"_I have to know, Isabel. I have to find out, or else how will I ever be able to sleep again? Does it mean Rochelle is in trouble? How can this be a hidden truth? And what was it John said about this challenge? That we'd be facing our inner demons?"_

"_Maybe it was a reflection of your concern for her."_

_What?_

"_I think you're in love with her, Ethan."_

_I don't even stop to try to understand. At the word 'love', my brain turns off. "You don't know what you're talking about!"_

_It's the first time I ever have stopped to think about it. Being in love with Rochelle, I mean. It takes a good ten minutes for me to figure out that maybe Isabel isn't full of crap after all. Maybe…just, maybe…she's right. _

_My God. I'm still in love with Rochelle._

_OOOOOOOOO_

_The mission to the Underworld was successful. Arkarian's alive and back. I've had the first normal few weeks of school that I've had in awhile. Lorien and Lathenia are meeting in a conference. Out of the corner of my eyes, I see Rochelle approaching. She looks somewhat hesitant. It sends flip-flops through my stomach. Something in me is not ready to talk to her yet, though. I keep seeing her screaming face in my dreams. Before she can become part of our group, I take her off to the side. "You know, it probably isn't a good idea you coming over here."_

"_What?" She looks surprised, and a little…hurt?_

"_All of us hanging around together could look suspicious." This is true, in a way. Still, the look on her face has me regretting that I ever said anything, and I'm just about to revoke it when her face becomes impassive again._

"_Oh? Oh yeah. I wasn't going to sit here. I…I was looking for Dillon."_

_Dillon. Of course. Instantly a part of me goes cold. She's not interested in me, after all. It's Dillon, her fellow Order defector, that she's interested in sitting with. I feel the strange buzzing in my mind that means she's trying to see these thoughts. I'm instantly angry with myself for being this jealous for someone that has played me this way before. _

_She knows that I can feel the mind probing. "Sorry, Ethan, I didn't mean-"_

"_To read my thoughts? Or be so obvious doing it?"_

"_That's not fair."_

"_Isn't it?" I shake my head and turn away. I can't look at her when I know she's right. I'll fall into her green eyes and never climb back out. _

"_You know how hard it is sometimes to turn off your powers."_

_I have to say something. Something to cover up how flustered I am by this girl. "Look, I don't know how long Dillon's going to be away. He defected to the Guard, like you. He's going through a debriefing right now. But I heard he's making really good progress. So I'm sure you'll have someone else to get your claws into real soon." _

_It hurts her and confuses her; I can see that. She doesn't know why I'm acting this way, and I'm not going to tell her. Any declarations of love from me now would probably be laughed off, and disregarded. I don't really pay attention to the conversation when Mr. Carter comes, only try to shake off this foreboding feeling I have. It's only when a sharp hissing and whistling fills the air that I know what's causing it. I grab Rochelle out of reflex and duck. "Take cover!"_

_A flaming ball of fire streaks down and lands in the courtyard. I fall on top of Rochelle as the debris flames all around us. One of the pieces catches her hair on fire. She yells, and I don't even think. I beat it out with my hands. She tries to stop me, but I'm too strong. If she thinks I'm going to let her burn to death, she's nuts. Finally the fire is out, but my hands, which I haven't felt until now, are in agony. I'm also angry with myself. Not for saving her, never for saving her, but because now my feelings must be as obvious as Matt's for Neriah. When she tries to look at my hands, I tug them away. _

"_Are you guys alright?" Isabel comes running over. _

"_Ethan's hands are burnt." Rochelle tells her. I dare to look at her. She's looking at me too, but not in a smirking way. She looks completely surprised and embarrassed. It occurs to me that she might _not_ have figured it out. Isabel heals the burnt hands quickly, much to my relief. I thank her, and Rochelle looks startled out of whatever trance she's in. I know what she wants to say, but she's looking at me like she's completely helpless. I guess I've never actually heard her thank anyone before. She's never had to._

"_It's all right. You just happened to be the closest to me at the time. I would have done it for Carter if he'd been standing in your place."_

_Once again, my mouth has opened and said completely the opposite of what I want to. It always does with this girl. I guess it's better that I said it that way, anyway. _

_I don't even wonder why she looks kind of sad when she turns away._

_OOOOOOOOOOOOO _

_In the cleaning up after the final battle, I hear Dillon be unwittingly cruel to Rochelle. He's just seen the downfall of two of the most powerful immortals in the universes. We've been fighting for a long time, and it's finally coming to an end. I understand his thoughtless comment, but it hurts Rochelle. Deeply. She's trying to help, and accidentally touches him. "Hey, watch it! What are you doing? For crying out loud, Roh, where are your gloves?"_

_I can see from here that she hasn't even left a mark. I watch as she turns red. "Is this what you all think?" There are no sounds. I'm so angry with the people that I clench my fist. "Do you really think, given the opportunity, that I would purposefully hurt you? Is that why no one dares to come near me? Or do you just think of me as a freak?"  
_

_It must hurt deeply for her, after all of these months of working hard for trust, that not everyone has given it. I have, though. And in that split second, I decide that it's time for her to know it. As I step forward, she finally looks at me, eyes bright with unshed tears and anger. "I don't want your pity, Ethan. I never wanted that."_

_She runs into the forest. Isabel looks like she's going to follow her, but I know that it has to be me. I run as fast as I can, but Rochelle's fast. I follow the sound of crashing branches and broken twigs until I come out onto a cliff's edge. For a terrifying minute, I'm sure that she's gone over. Then I see her, standing off to the side. She's looking at me with trepidation. Her dark hair is blowing away from her face; her face is smudged but beautiful. Her eyes are greener than I've ever seen them. This Rochelle Thallimar is a completely different girl than who I fell in love with on sight sophomore year, but I love this girl with more intensity than I'd ever thought possible. I walk over to her and take her hands, which she's covered with the gloves. Slowly, I peel one back. I can't believe I'm doing this. _

"_What are you doing?"_

_I don't answer, holding her hand tight as I throw the glove off the cliff. She's completely surprised, and I don't answer her, but throw the other one off as well. _

"_Ethan, why?" she wails. "I can't go back without them. And what about school?"_

_I take her hands. I'm so caught up in her that I don't even feel the sparks. "These are your hands. They're a part of you, so this is who you are. I know you wouldn't purposefully hurt anyone, and nobody that knows you would think so either. From this moment on- at least until school starts again- you don't wear the gloves. The more you don't wear them, the better you'll get at controlling the power in your hands."_

"_But Dillon-"_

"_Dillon mouths off sometimes. He can be insensitive and thoughtless. That's just who he is. I'm not sticking up for him, but he reacted off the top of his head back there because you intimidate him. You intimidate most of us you know."_

_She scoffs, and it gives me a chance to take a deep breath for this next part. "You're talented and beautiful, and well…with these hands you're very powerful. You can see into our souls."_

_I put her hands on either side of my face. They spark warmly. She looks completely unguarded now, and I can see tears starting in her eyes. "Why are you doing this?"_

"_Because I care about you."_

_Coward. _

"_No," I sigh. I have to say this, or I'll never forgive myself. _

"_No? You don't care?"_

"_What I meant to say was, I'm doing this because I love you."_

"_What did you say?" Rochelle looks completely blown away. But not in a bad way. Instead, she looks like something wonderful might be happening. This is encouraging. _

"_I have loved you since that first moment I saw you. I wanted you then, and when I thought you didn't want me, I turned my love into hate. It was the biggest mistake I ever made."_

"_Ethan…"_

_But I'm done with words. Done with thinking. As I lean in and kiss her, bringing these years and emotions full circle, I hear her happy sigh. _

"Ethan," Matt jabs me in the back lightly, and I realize that Rochelle is just in front of me, looking slightly concerned. I quickly grab her hands and smile at her, letting her know with my thoughts what has gotten me sidetracked.

"Oh Lord," Matt whispers. I flush beet red, because I realize that I haven't shielded my thoughts from everyone. "Is _that_ how this all happened?"

Flipping off your best man when you're the groom in the wedding is probably not a wise move, so I don't do it. I make a mental note to do something in retaliation later, though. Dillon will help me.

Speaking of, he hasn't shut off the music yet. Rochelle's been here for a good minute already, and the music is still going. He probably can't find the "Off" switch. King Richard waits with his hands folded patiently for another moment. "Well, if it doesn't stop soon, we'll just do a wedding with a soundtrack, how's that?" he said quietly.

Rochelle smiles, but looks like she desperately wishes the music would stop. "So, who did the decorating?" she asks Isabel quietly. "It looks great."

"Thanks," Isabel looks ready to murder Dillon. "It was some local person. He doesn't look like he'd be very insightful, but he really did do a great job, didn't he? I think the scar was kind of off-putting."

I freeze. "Scar?"

"Yes." Now she looks annoyed that there's friendly chitchat going on at the altar. The music seems to be drawing to a close. "A big man, with a scar right across his face."

I don't even have time to whip around and share a glance with Matt when there's a commotion at the back. Dillon comes rushing in. "Ethan! Arkarian! There's a prob-"

Before he can finish, a deep voice booms out "EVERYONE- _FREEZE_!"

The beautiful wall tapestries are ripped off, revealing trap doors behind them. From these, creatures appear to be pouring out. Not just any creatures- Wren. Taller than the mass, their leader rises above them- the scarred man.

Gasps and screams come from the wedding guests, and there's a mad scramble as a few stand up and try to run. Wren block every entrance. I try to turn to look at Matt or Arkarian for instructions, but something weird is happening. I can't move. It's like I'm literally frozen.

I look to Rochelle, who's right in front of me. She can't seem to break free either. Her green eyes are wide with surprise and anger. Isabel and Neriah are frozen with identical expressions of shock on their faces, only their eyes moving. All of the Named are helpless to do anything but watch the man in front of us make his way slowly up the aisle. A shocked silence follows him. Dad is unmoving in the first row, but his eyes are furious. My mom isn't paralyzed, because she's a normal mortal, but she might as well be. She can't do anything but watch with terror as the man gets closer and closer. The look on his face is victorious already, and he's obviously holding us still with some spell from his outstretched hand.

"Well, well, well…all of the Named, here at last. But surely these can't be the same legendry fighters that defeated the most powerful immortal in the world, and Marduke and his brother? I'm not seeing the challenge here."

Matt's obviously trying hard to break free. His fingers are twitching, and his eyes are focused hard on the scarred man. "Who…" he chokes out. "Who are you?"

The man chuckles. "Finally, someone intelligent enough to ask. Did you really believe that Marduke and his brother had not made a plan, in case they should fail last spring? Did you?" His golden eyes snap. "Did you think it was over, then?"

"And you…" He turns to smirk at Dillon. "I warned you that this wasn't over, didn't I?

"Call me General," he looks straight at me. "Because that's what I'll be to you from now on. Kind of funny, isn't it? The Named working for the Order of Chaos."

"It's sick." Rochelle spits out. General's smirking demeanor vanishes, and I moan in my head.

"You're the girl, aren't you?" I don't like the way he's looking at her. "Rochelle. The one who was a spy for Marduke?"

"That was a long time ago," she growls. He's freed the spell on her head, obviously, so she can talk. She looks back at me. "It was a mistake. I don't do that any more."

"Oh, I think you'll get your taste for it back." General chuckles again.

That's when I notice something that he hasn't. When he froze the Named, he left all of the normal wedding guests, and servers, alone. Creeping up stealthily behind him is Jocelyn, Dillon's serving girl. The Wren are too focused on their master to notice the slight girl moving slowly, a platter in hand. Why a platter? Couldn't she find a knife or something?

Dillon notices her too, from his position near the back. His eyes don't leave her, even for a second, and I think he might be holding his breath.

_WHAM!_

Okay, I guess a platter works just as well.

In the instant she crashes it with all of her strength onto the back of General's head, all hell seems to break loose. For one thing, I can move again. So can everyone else. I take a huge breath and follow Matt as he leaps at the nearest Wren. Pandemonium has broken out among the guests again, and I can see Neriah start to lead them out of the hall to safety.

We don't have any weapons except for our powers. Rochelle's hands are fully powered, and Matt and Neriah seem to be pulling immortal spells out of their ears. Isabel has grabbed a pole used to hang one of the fallen tapestries. Dillon is roaring as he tears his way through the Wren to get to Jocelyn. Her plan doesn't seem to have been formulated past hitting General, so the Wren have got her cornered. In a second, though, Dillon has cleared a path and carried her through the doors to safety.

The fight is going well, though, despite being out-numbered and weaponless. And in formalwear. I even think we're winning when, suddenly, a scream rings out. A scream that sends chills through my spine, because I hear it in my nightmares. The fighting stops as I turn slowly to see Rochelle, in her torn wedding dress, being held captive around the waist, a knife at her neck. General's knife.

He's looking right at me, maniacal gleam in his eyes and all. My eyes lock with Rochelle's. She doesn't look scared, just pissed as hell. On of her arms is pinioned up behind her back, the other held firmly at her side. No one is even close to her.

"What are you gonna do now, boy?"

His voice rings out through the hall. Most of the Wren are dead, and those that are still standing have stopped fighting to watch their master's victory. I don't answer. My mind is spinning.

"I'll kill her, you know. It'll be the first thing I've done that my father could never do."

His father? I chance a look at Matt, whose mouth is wide open. Marduke had a son?

"I don't need you all. And this one," he gives Rochelle a shake. A look of intense pain flashes through her face as he jostles the twisted arm. "Has been a particular thorn in the Order's side. Killing her would have been my father's greatest delight. Or you." He looks at me again.

I don't have to tell him that it would be the same thing.

What can I do? I can't just stand there while Rochelle dies. There's also no way I can reach her in time. I'm considering taking a running leap anyway when the building starts to rumble. Not just rumble, but also shake. For a second I think it's an earthquake, but then the huge hall doors burst open, and a tall, slightly glowing figure strides through. "Dartemus!" Matt breathes a big sigh. I can detect relief in it. I can't be relieved though, because General still has Rochelle, and is digging the knife into her neck. She winces.

The tall immortal doesn't even glance at the rest of us. His eyes are on the scarred man at the center. "Radames. Let the girl go."

"No." General, apparently Radames, growls.

"You can't win now. You must know that." Dartemus is speaking calmly, but the whole room can feel his power crackle angrily.

"You weren't supposed to come." Radames has loosened his grip slightly. "You weren't supposed to be here."

"Oops." Dartemus sounds casual. "I guess there was a miscommunication. I just had some other business to attend to. Now I'm here, obviously. Just in time, too."

There is a moment of complete stillness. Then, with a frustrated yell, Radames throws Rochelle down and disappears with an audible _"pop"_. The rest of the Wren go with him.

"Well then," Dartemus turns to us in the silence that follows. "Sorry I missed the first part. Shall we carry on?"

I run to where Rochelle is on the ground. "Rochelle, are you alright?"

She lets me help her up, checking carefully for broken bones. Other than a cut on her neck, she seems to be fine. Isabel quickly heals whatever injuries we've accumulated.

"Wait, what do you mean 'carry on'?" My best friend turns to Dartemus. "Are you insane? Look around. They're not going to want to get married like this."

The hall is the picture of destruction, like we've seen so many times. But the scattered flowers and ribbons have kind of a chaotic beauty. I've lost my tux coat and cummerbund (not a horrible loss anyway), and my tie. I'm pretty sure I'm dirty and that the white shirt is a little ripped. The other guys are in a similar state.

I look at my bride. Most of her dark hair has come down, hanging around her face. The dress is tattered and dirty at the hemline, and her earrings are gone. A smudge of dirt is on her cheek.

I've never seen anything so beautiful in my life.

"You know what?" I announce, still looking at Rochelle. Her eyes are sparkling. "Let's do this."

"What?" Isabel looks shocked.

"Well," Rochelle giggles, taking my hand. "Think about it. It _is_ kind of appropriate. This is who we are. It's what we do. I can't think of a better place to get married, actually. Or time. Or guy."

"Alright then," King Richard has recovered from his surprise. He manages to look very dignified in now-torn robes, his crown still on his head. Quickly, he takes his place.

"Wait," Arkarian's voice rings out strongly. But he's not looking at us. He's looking at Isabel. "Isabel…"

"Yes?" she looks wary.

"Why can't we get married? Right here, right now. It's all set up. And we could just share the ceremony. Right Ethan? Rochelle?"

"Um. Sure." I nod. Rochelle nods too. He turns back to her beseechingly.

Isabel has tears in her eyes. "Arkarian, you don't have to do this. I told you-"

"I know what you told me. And I'm saying that I want you to marry me. Now. Here. There will never be a better time."

Any idiot would know her answer.

"Well, Isabel?" Dillon calls out. He's brought Jocelyn, Evie, Gabe, and my mom back into the hall.

Okay, maybe not.

She answers by pulling Arkarian into a long kiss.

"Ahem." King Richard clears his throat. "If you don't mind, I'd like to get started before something else catastrophic happens to stop this thing."

And so, with laughter and disaster and typical Named flair, Rochelle and I and Isabel and Arkarian are married.

* * *

**Wow. LONG chapter. Hopefully that makes up for the updating delay. This took a long time, so I'd really appreciate if you take the time to tell me what you thought. Thank you to all my reviewers, if I tried to list you all, you'd be waiting another day. You keep me going! The next chapter is the last. **

**The flashbacks are all from the american versions of The Dark and The Key, I just changed it to Ethan's POV. The first flashback I made up myself the way I envisioned it going. **

**-HaLo**


	6. Ending With a Bang

****

**"If you want a happy ending, that depends, of course, on where you stop your story."**

**-Orson Welles**

**"Nobody can go back and start a new beginning, but anyone can start today and make a new ending."**

**-Maria Robinson **

* * *

Neriah

The music, provided by Dillon, is loud and blaring. On the floor, people are dancing. It doesn't seem to matter that it's hardcore rap- I see Ethan and Rochelle out there polkaing. Well, she's trying to teach him anyway. Finally he just gives up and dips her, despite her laughing protests.

"_**All my homies and my bitches say 'ye-ah'!"**_

To my amazement, some of the crowd says "Ye-AH!"

"DILLON!" Matt's on a warpath. "What the _hell _is this?"

"You don't like it?" Dillon replies innocently.

"This is a wedding! NOT a nightclub!"

"Calm down, Matty."

"I'm just saying, try playing some _normal_ wedding music!"

"Um, are Ethan and Rochelle and Isabel and Arkarian normal?"

"Dillon…"

"What, like the YMCA? 80's bands?"

"YES! Wait, no…"

"Matt, let's dance." I finally decide to intervene, flashing Dillon a grin and taking Matt's hand. "Hey, Dil, after this song ends…do you think you could play something that we can identify with?"

"Sure thing, Ner." Dillon looks pointedly at Matt. "See?"

"See what?" Matt snaps.

"Your girlfriend is a good leader. She's not too bossy."

Thankfully, he has the good sense to disappear then. A few seconds later, a Def Leppard song comes on. I'm finally getting Matt to twirl and jump a little bit (it's hard because he feels like he has to do _dignified_ twirling and jumping. There is no such thing) when over the speakers, Dillon's voice comes on.

"Alright, folks…this song is dedicated to all the stiff-butts out there, and their beautiful girlfriends."

The opening strains of "It is You (I Have Loved)" by Dana Glover come on. I choke back a giggle, but Matt doesn't seem annoyed by Dillon. Certainly not ungrateful for the slow dance, anyway. He holds me close as we sway.

Matt is smiling goofily for no apparent reason.

"What?" I say, pulling back a little so that I'm no longer resting my head on his shoulder.

"Nothing."

"Matt."

"Nothing! Well, okay…I was actually thinking about how right Dillon was."

"Come again?" I raised an eyebrow. We hadn't even broken our swaying rhythm yet.

"Well," he explained. "Like about you. Being a good leader. And beautiful, and smart, and charming, and sweet, and-"

"Matt…" I slowly smiled. "He didn't say half of those things."

"Oh," he said, furrowing his eyebrow adorably, his lips an inch from mine. "Maybe I was letting my own feelings cloud the matter a little."

"A little?"

"A little." And then he was kissing me, right there on the dance floor. It was one of thousands of kisses I knew we would share; yet this one still gave me just as many shivers and sparkles as the first one.

* * *

**Dillon **

Everyone is happy. This never happens in Angel Falls. I keep expecting the walls to cave in or something and have Wren crashing through. Everything is normal, though. Even Matt and Neriah are making out on the dance floor.

Just to make myself chuckle, I play "Everybody Dance Now" next.

Jocelyn is sitting over in the fireplace corner with Evie and Gabe, teaching them kung-fu moves. This is strangely adorable. The kids I mean, not her. She hasn't danced all night. Not that I've been watching, or anything. It's just funny to see all the boys get turned away one by one because she's working, or watching the kids.

There's something pathetic in that.

Which is why, I tell myself, I make my way over to where the redhead is playing. Her hair looks almost brown in the firelight. The fire also dances across her eyes, making them sparkle. "Good day, Dillon."

I prepare myself for my suave, cool greeting. I've talked with far more intimidating girls than her, so my heartbreaker-charm should work smoothly.

"Me with dance?"

WHAT?!

That didn't even sound like English! And worse, it wasn't the deep macho voice that I was going for. It was more like a thirteen-year-old boy on puberty. I think my voice even squeaked.

For the life of me, though, I can't make my mouth work to try again. She looks like she wants very much to laugh at me, but she's trying to hide it. "I'm sorry?"

"Um…"

"You know what?" she says, after about 30 more seconds of me looking like a fish. "Why don't you just tell me later? Will you dance with me?"

This girl seriously challenges all reality. "Uh, yeah, I think I can do that."

I lead her out onto the dance floor without managing to trip on anything, and take her in my arms. "Ahem…" Matt clears his throat into the microphone. "This song is dedicated to Butter Boy…good luck, buddy."

Oh, man. If looks could kill, the look I'm giving Matt right now would…

Well, kill him. Or at least make him drop to the ground in pain.

But alas, I have to deal with his smirk, and Jocelyn's puzzled look. "Butter Boy?"

"Haven't seen him." I answer quickly, steering her away from Matt. The song he put on is nice though, soft and slow.

"So you live alone with Evie?" I ask after a pause. Usually with a girl I don't _talk_ while dancing, but this girl's got me somewhat jumpy.

"Yes…" she answered. "It can get a little difficult sometimes."

"Because there's no man to take care of you or anything?"

"I don't need a man to take care of me," her eyes flashed. Oops.

"No, no, that's not what I meant." I hurried to assure her. "I was just…I don't know. Checking."

She looks a little puzzled but at least it placated her. "Oh, I see. So you, Dillon…you have no girl here?"

I look around to where Shaun's got Laura, Ethan's got Rochelle, Matt's got Neriah, Arkarian's got Isabel, and even Gabe has Evie. "No, looks like I'm the odd man out I guess."

"Too bad," she says simply. The dance ends, and a faster one starts. She shows no signs of wanting to go back.

We're in the middle of a coordinated twisting and hopping dance we made up to "Born to be Wild" when she suddenly stops and gasps "Dillon!"

" What?" I turn and follow her gaze, expecting to see the Wren pouring in _now_. But no, it's just Evie and Gabe playing. And not with just anything. No, the little sister of a red-haired annoying barmaid is…

"Is she…?"

"It can't be."

"Yep," Dartemus appears, peering closely. "She's levitating a spoon."

"How?" Arkarian turns to Matt and Dartemus. "I mean, she's normal."

"Obviously _not_." Matt points out.

"So what does this mean?"

In the astonishment everyone's kind of forgotten about Jocelyn. But she's there, and she looks angrier by the second.

"It means," Matt answers her, looking at Dartemus quickly. "That she's part of the Chosen."

"Chosen for what?" she demands. They don't answer her.

"We'll have to take her back." Arkarian looks at the other two. "If she stays here, she'll be a sitting duck for General Radames's men."

Everyone nods his or her assent.

"Hold on," Jocelyn cuts in. "Where?"

"Back to where we can keep her safe." Dartemus replies. "There's no other way."

The immortality "vibes" of power emanating from him don't faze her. There's no negotiating with her steely tone when she says, "Wherever she goes, I go."

All the Truthseers just look at each other for a moment. Gabe runs over to Ethan, who picks him up and starts to murmur to him. "It could be done…" Arkarian says slowly.

"The risks are too great." Matt says firmly. "She could die."

"Laura's here, isn't she?" Rochelle retorts.

"Laura is from our time period." Matt says. "Jocelyn isn't. Her body won't adjust."

"Technically, Matt, we don't _know_ that." Arkarian speaks up. "It's just what we've always thought."

"What are you talking about?" Jocelyn demands.

"We can't." Matt says stubbornly. "Too dangerous."

"I'm not leaving her." Jocelyn says. Her blue eyes find my green ones. "I'm all she has left." _And she's all I have_. She doesn't say the words out loud, but I can see them in her eyes. I can see confusion, fear, and something that cuts me deeply: desperation.

"Listen," I say finally, tearing my eyes away from hers. "We've got no other choice. The Order will come after her, too. They'll think she's got power. And Evie needs Jocelyn."

"I think we should let the girl decide," Dartemus speaks up, his powerful eyes on her. "What will it be, Jocelyn? Stay here and eventually forget your sister, or risk death by following her?"

I wish I could explain to Jocelyn what Dartemus's siblings were like. He doesn't understand the close bond of mortals. As has been proven, immortal siblings have no qualms in killing each other. Or trying to take over the world as we know it.

But whatever.

Suddenly, I realize that I know what choice I want her to make. I can't explain why I'm going to say these words; it just feels like I should. "Jocelyn…" she looks at me, and there are tears running down her cheeks.

"Look…I know your impressions of us haven't been the greatest so far. Me especially. But…you've got to trust me here. I'm obnoxious, weird, and apparently unable to keep my thoughts straight around you, but I'm not a liar. Evie is in danger, and so are you. I can't promise your safety, but I can promise hers. If you don't make it through the time gap, I'll look after her like she's mine. You have my word on that."

Nobody speaks. Neriah looks like she's about to start crying herself.

"We've got to go." Dartemus says. "The gap is open."

I look at him, and then back at Jocelyn. I hold out a shaking hand. "Now or never." I say softly.

She looks at me for a second, and then takes it with a firm grip. "I trust you. Let's go."

Evie doesn't need to be coaxed into going along. She's quietly holding the spoon as she allows Jocelyn to pick her up. Three-year-olds, I've learned from Gabe, definitely aren't as light as they look. She's never going to be able to keep up if she's holding the little girl.

"Let me," I say.

"Evie?" she asks the wide-eyed toddler. Evie opens her arms up to me, and I take her. She's definitely lighter than Gabe, proving, as I've always said, that Rochelle feeds him too much. He is a fatty. Everyone else jumps before Jocelyn and I. Matt takes Evie.

"Ready?" I ask her. I'm almost hoping she'll say no and back out. It'd be safer that way, I think.

"Now or never, right?" she grins.

Yep, I love her. I'm screwed. No more denial for me.

"Right." I smile back and grab her hand impulsively, so that we jump together.

"OOMPH!" I hit the ground and somewhat ungracefully roll. In normal circumstances, I would try to maintain composure and finish off in a Jackie Chan karate roll or something, to make it look like I fell on purpose. Right now, though, I can only lie still and wait. After the longest three seconds of my life, I hear the most beautiful sound ever.

"OOMPH! Dillon…you didn't tell me that I had to LAND!"

"Whew! We all made it!" Neriah's voice comes through clearly. I roll over and look into a pair of annoyed-but-alive blue eyes.

"Are you alright?" I ask Jocelyn, and everyone waits for her answer.

"Well…" she says slowly, examining her arms and shaking out her legs. "I appear to be all in one piece, and I'm not melting…sooooo…I'll live!"

A cheer goes up, Evie escapes Ethan and runs to her sister. Shaun takes Gabe in his arms, where the kid can barely keep his eyes open. "Alright, you young people…Laura and I and this little guy are hitting the sack."

"We have to go back too," Neriah says regretfully, sharing a glance with Matt. "We just wanted to see if it all worked out."

"It did," Jocelyn assures her with a smile.

"We'll be back for brunch tomorrow," Neriah calls to Rochelle.

"Let's make it lunch," Rochelle replies with a grin.

"Dinner," Ethan says.

"How about linner?" I provide. Saying what we're all thinking, as always.

"No." Everyone denies me at the same time.

Ethan carries Rochelle off all romantically, but only until we can't see him anymore. Then you know that he's totally going to use his wings. You women are NOT as light as you'd like to think.

"I'll start in the morning getting an apartment for you," Arkarian tells Jocelyn, who's holding a sleeping Evie.

"Um, thank you." Jocelyn replies with a polite but puzzled smile.

"It's a house." I whisper.

"And I can make her a student at the university if she wishes, and enroll Evie in school. And birth certificates and social security numbers and things like that." Arkarian has to have some idea that Jocelyn can't have a CLUE what social security is. _I_ don't and I've lived in this time zone my whole life.

"Alright," she nods anyway. "Thank you."

"Can she stay with you for tonight, Dillon?" Arkarian asks. Isabel is trying to pull him away by now.

"If she doesn't mind," I answer, looking at her.

"I would like that," she smiles.

That smile turns my insides to jelly.

"Have fun," I say to Arkarian, turning away.

"You too," he grins, and winks so that only I can see.

He's such a card.

Jocelyn's sleepy too, although her eyes have been wide ever since she's seen my house. She lies on the bed without asking too many questions, after a crash course on using the toilet. I get a pillow and go sleep on the couch.

"Where are you going?" she murmurs sleepily. Evie is in the bed beside her, nestled up together.

"Just down the hall. I'll be there if you need anything." I say softly.

"Dillon…thank you." She's almost asleep.

"Anything for you," I say softly. And I mean it.

"I think I love you. It's only been three days though."

If I didn't know better, I could swear she was sleep talking.

"I love you," I say quietly, but I know she can hear. I hope that's what has her smiling as I close the door.

Hell, I know it's been three days. I also know, though, that I haven't felt this way about any girl. Ever.

I'm really going to enjoy teaching her how to use a microwave.

* * *

**The End.**

**Wow. This is sadder than I expected. Sorry about the ridiculous wait- I'm convinced that there is nothing in this world so disheartening as accidently deleting a whole already-written chapter that was PERFECT and LONG from your computer. But I got over it, and here is the new version. I'm not sure if it's better or worse, but I couldn't keep you guys waiting any longer. THANK YOU ALL THE REVIEWERS EVER...I'd write down all your names, but you'd be waiting another month for the chapter. So here are the ones from last chapter, and if you feel left out, PM me and I'll thank you in a personal note ;)...starlit iridescence, Romy, Paddikins, Lady Pendragon, irish-girl123, x0xkatiex0x, dominicanlover12, Rosy-Isabel-Charlie, Arae Arca, ladyclair4161, Atrasoul, LovelyLadyJem, tureLuV, IdiotAmerica56, kenshinroks2111...thank you. **

**Could everyone please review for this chapter? It's the last one of this story EVER, and even a little word like "good" would make me happy for days :) Thank you all for reading, and until next time...**

**-HaLo AnGeL-**


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